


Gentle

by Applesandbannas747



Category: Fence (Comics)
Genre: M/M, boxing au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-24
Updated: 2020-09-24
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:40:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26627662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Applesandbannas747/pseuds/Applesandbannas747
Summary: Watching muscular men punch each other senseless is not Jesse Coste's idea of a good night, but awful little brothers sometimes drag unsuspecting victims to boxing matches anyway. Jesse is determined to have nothing to do with any of it, but he soon finds himself entranced—and perhaps even charmed—by the gentleness he discovers in hands that furl so naturally into fists.
Relationships: Eugene Labao/Jesse Coste
Comments: 12
Kudos: 40





	Gentle

**Author's Note:**

> guess who went on a tirade about boxers like two days ago and got encouraged by friends instead of told to shut the fuck up? me. so now I'm interrupting our regularly scheduled program to give you some twaddle about the idea of Eugene boxing. I hope you enjoy XD <3

Jesse tried not to touch anything as he slipped into the small room off the main area with the awful ring and all those burly, sweaty oafs. He’d smell like man stench for the rest of the night, that much was for sure. Nick would pay for this. _A little detour,_ he’d said. And Jesse had believed him. He should have just called for a cab from the airport. Accepting favors always backfired. And now Jesse was in a dingy hole in the wall so that Nick could support his stupid friend in some stupid boxing match. Jesse had better things to be doing. He was tired and his feet hurt and he was jet lagged and he didn’t want to be here—

“Can I help you?” The low voice made Jesse jump, even though it didn’t sound all that frightening. It was this gloomy room and the poor lighting. He hadn’t noticed anyone else in here until he spun toward the speaker. “You look lost, princess.”

“You’ll watch your tone with me or—!”

“Or?” the stranger asked with a grin when Jesse didn’t finish the threat. He couldn’t. Because he’d just noticed who he was talking to. Not a specific person—not anyone Jesse knew or knew _of_ —why would he know anyone who frequented places like _this?_ But a person that stole the rest of Jesse’s words.

 _He only caught me off guard,_ Jesse thought sternly.

White teeth glinted at Jesse, set into a strong, square jaw. The round nose and ridiculously short eyebrows ought to have made the man appear cheery but his posture and attire lent him a different look. And his _bulk_. Jesse felt in danger of being snapped clean in half just looking at those massive arms. He sat on a stool, muscular legs clad in athletic shorts and sneakered feet hooked up on the low bars of the stool. He hunched a little—leaned, it seemed, toward Jesse, and his devilishly messy hair fell over black coffee eyes.

“Ask yourself,” Jesse said coldly, “do I _really_ look like someone you can get away with harassing? I can afford to hire a team of lawyers to find a way to charge you for that, _princess.”_

The man barked a laugh and it transformed his face from the mischievous smirk and lazily interested gaze—here was the cheery face his features promised.

_Still handsome, though._

Jesse paused, surprised by the unbidden thought.

He was tired. Jet lagged. Disoriented from this dingy place and these dark lights.

That was all.

Jesse Coste didn’t think boys like this were handsome. He had more class than that. And the other man clearly had none. Judging by the robe open over a bare—and rock-solid—chest, this was one of the boxers Nick had dragged him here to watch.

“I wasn’t looking to harass you,” he offered when his boisterous laughter faded. He looked down to his hands, which Jesse realized were occupied, in the middle of wrapping his right hand in some sort of long strip of yellow fabric. Jesse had never cared for boxing, but this must be part of it. The man’s left hand was already crossed in the yellow wrap.

“Then what _were_ you looking to do with me?” Jesse asked. A flick of eyes up to meet his and a quirked mouth—an eyebrow rising in innuendo. Jesse inhaled sharply, realizing what he’d just said and all the ways it might be answered. But it wasn’t answered. The man just looked back down to his hands with a lingering smirk and started efficiently wrapping his knuckles.

“You’re not supposed to be back here,” the man said, not looking up from his work this time. Jesse watched entranced as he wrapped his hand with deft, quick movements.

“I don’t _want_ to be here,” Jesse said, frowning at the reminder of his misfortune. “My awful little brother kidnapped me after a long day of travel and made me come here.”

The stranger looked up again with a new spark of interest. Jesse determinedly didn’t let himself feel the stranger's eyes or that spark.

“New York,” he said casually, “isn’t even an hour flight.”

“Excuse me?” Jesse asked with a jolt.

“Jesse, right?” Fingers stilled in their work and Jesse finally looked fully up from them, finding dark eyes set on him, mouth fixed in lopsided amusement. “That awful little brother of yours is my best friend. Didn’t know he was bringing you, though.”

“You? You mean it’s _your_ fault I’m stuck here?”

“Guess so.” This time when the boxer resumed twining the wrap around fingers and wrist, he did so slowly and without looking away from Jesse. Jesse could feel the flush he’d been fighting start to creep over him. “But I promise to make it worth your while.”

“I don’t…” Jesse couldn’t focus on anything but the wide hands and yellow wrap and slow, sure motion of the two coming together. He knew Nick’s awful friend noticed it, too. Could feel the smirk and the burning eyes on him as he watched, helpless to look away until the wrap was secured and the man stood up.

He was shorter than Jesse, but he might as well have loomed for the way his gaze made Jesse’s stomach drop.

“Cheer for me, okay?” he said. And then Jesse was alone in the room.

“I won’t—why would I—I don’t even know your name!” Jesse spluttered after the man.

Jesse shifted his weight uncomfortably, a frustrated noise escaping his throat as indecision struck him. He’d come to this room with the intention of getting away from the crowded lobby and the noisy with all those smelly people in it clamoring around the brutish ring that men would soon be punching each other around; he would have gone outside if he’d trusted the area not to leave him down a wallet and who knew what else. He wanted to stay here, avoid the commotion and the man. As if he’d _cheer_ for anyone, especially someone like _that._

He’d just wait here until Nick texted him that they could go. He wouldn’t give the boxer the satisfaction of thinking Jesse had come out to watch him. He wouldn’t…

“Argh!” Jesse screamed, turning on his heel and retreating back out the way he’d come with footfalls loud enough to punctuate his foul mood.

“Jesse!” Nick called, appearing next to him as soon as he was back in the thick of things. “I thought I’d lost you!”

“I wish!”

It was so loud in here, they had to shout just to hear each other. Nick grabbed Jesse’s arm and dragged him over to what Jesse feared was the splash zone. If these brutes got spittle or blood on his brand new sweater…Jesse straightened out the tied sleeves over his chest, assuring himself that it was still perfectly intact.

“Eugene’s up first,” Nick said, loud in Jesse’s ear.

“Eugene?”

“My friend. See?” He pointed to the boy with the yellow hand wraps. Jesse swore he—Eugene—glanced over just then and caught Jesse looking.

Jesse turned his head away quickly, lest Eugene get the wrong idea. But when he turned his head, he was met with the sight of another boxer, this one with a far less pretty face and a much hairier chest. As the other man started to shed his robe, Jesse turned his head again, not interested in seeing _that._ It brought him right back to where he’d started, with an eyeful of Eugene. And Eugene was disrobing now too, his warm skin shining under the harsh lights.

“Careful,” Nick roared, “you’ll get drool on your sweater.”

“What?” Jesse balked. “Over that beefcake friend of yours? You know I think super muscly guys are gross.”

But, then, he’d never seen muscles like _that._ They rippled as Eugene threw a couple punches into the air, feet shuffling as he warmed up. Jesse hated that he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the sight of it. Even when Eugene put on a heinous helmet and mouth guard that made his lips protrude in a very unflattering— _and unkissable_ —way. Even with those balloon-looking gloves covering up hypnotizing hands. Jesse couldn’t stop staring.

It was because he was tired. And disoriented. And possibly had gone too long without a good lay. That was what was making his heart pound fast as Eugene stepped into the ring and started throwing punches at his opponent instead of the air.

Captivated by the way Eugene’s arms bulged with muscle while still retaining a graceful silhouette and the way his skin glimmered with sweat and his chest heaved and his face managed to smile around the mouth guard, Jesse watched despite himself and gasped when the other man landed a blow and almost— _almost—_ cheered when Eugene got back up and threw himself back into the fight every time without fail.

Eugene won. Jesse made sure not to let Eugene catch his eye as the ref held his arm up in victory. Nick whooped and pumped his fist next to Jesse, which was entirely undignified and Jesse edged away from him, not wanting to be associated with the childish reaction. Of course, no one else in this place was any better. It was like a zoo. Jesse’s eyes drifted toward an escape. The side door he’d slid behind earlier, before the match. He’d seen Eugene step off stage—out of the ring?—in that direction, hadn’t he?

Jesse glanced back toward Nick, who was looking around lost now. Served him right. Jesse slipped through the crowd as delicately as he could, trying to avoid any more jostling—of which he’d endured much of during the match.

“I didn’t hear your voice.”

This time, Jesse wasn’t startled to hear someone speak. He’d located Eugene the moment he’d stepped inside. His skin still shone with sweat and his hair hung heavily with damp and Jesse had never been the sort to find that sort of thing sexy—he’d never been the type to even _tolerate_ it.

“Maybe I wanted to offer you a more personal congratulations for your win tonight.”

“I’m listening,” Eugene said. He was out of his ridiculous gear, at least. And he hadn’t even put back on the silly robe. In athletic shorts and wrapped knuckles, Eugene looked good. Even covered in sweat and the showings of a few well-landed blows. “Thanks for watching.”

The way he said it made Jesse’s skin prickle. He wasn’t talking about the match and they both knew it.

“I can do better than watch.” Jesse tried to say it with the nonchalance he always managed with other boys but he could feel the heat in his face as he watched Eugene start unwrapping his hands with a casualness that only came from repeating the action so often.

Eugene’s mouth pulled up again in a smile as Jesse stepped carefully to him, taking the hand with its half-unraveled wrap. He didn’t have the practice at this that Eugene did but he unwound the yellow strip with precision, noting the weight and breadth and sturdy warmth of the hand, of the surprisingly unmarred knuckles he uncovered. Of the way Eugene flexed his hand when Jesse pulled the final loop off his thumb and how it made the tendons under soft brown skin shift.

Jesse swallowed. Then he reached for the other hand. This one, too, he took his time unwrapping. All the while, Eugene stayed quiet. Jesse wove the cloth in reverse between fingers, then off of thumb. He set the long tangle of wraps on the stool Eugene had sat on earlier. He didn’t let go of Eugene’s hand.

This was…a bad idea.

It wasn’t even one he could get away from. This man was Nick’s friend, which meant their lives met tangentially.

Which meant this was a terrible decision.

Jesse brought Eugene’s knuckles to his lips and pressed a kiss against them softly. He’d just seen these knuckles sink violently into another man’s gut, but against his mouth, they felt warm and gentle—they weren’t chapped or knobby or sharp, didn’t feel capable of hurt. Not where Jesse was concerned.

Jesse unbent his head, pulling away from the kiss.

“Congratulations on winning, Eugene,” Jesse said, more quietly than he’d been able to say anything all night. It was empty in here but for them, the noise of the outside world muffled and far away.

“I had a good luck charm tonight.”

“Don’t expect me to start coming to all your stupid boxing matches,” Jesse scoffed, picking up on Eugene’s meaning. _Good luck charm_ wasn’t half bad. Better than princess, in any case.

“You’ll be back.”

“Maybe,” Jesse hummed in agreement. He guided the hand he was still holding in both of his to his chest and pressed it there. “Convince me there’s a good reason to come back to this horrid place.”

Eugene laughed and his hand slipped from Jesse’s, down his chest and around to his waist, which Eugene gripped and pulled Jesse in by. In a moment, the other hand had joined it and in one more, Jesse’s hands were reaching for dark hair, pushing up into it. This close, he could smell what must have been Eugene’s shampoo, the scent reactivated by the wet of perspiration. He didn’t mind it. Didn’t even mind when his body pressed against Eugene’s, doubtless staining his nice button-down and new sweater.

Eugene tilted his head up to press his lips into Jesse’s and Jesse noticed that they seemed as warm and gentle as the hand he’d previously held to his mouth. Eugene’s lips moved into what felt like a smile and Jesse was expecting him to do something after a smile like that, but he still heard the hitch in his breath like a gasp when teeth teased his bottom lip. Eugene rolled the lip carefully before releasing it and taking the opening into Jesse’s mouth created by the little gasp. Eugene tasted a little like salt and pennies. Jesse should have disliked it—the whole thing should have repelled him—the hot skin under his fingers and pressing so close against his chest he felt like the single layer of fabric between them had been burned away, the sweat on Eugene’s lips quickly fading as Jesse kissed it away, the heavy hair in his hands—all of it.

But none of it did anything other than make him desperate to wrap his arms tighter around broad shoulders and bury his fingers deeper into thick hair. Eugene thrummed pleasantly when Jesse took a handful from the roots and tugged. He returned the favor with a roaming hand finding its way down Jesse’s back over his ass to take a thigh and pull it right against his hip. Jesse groaned in answer and Eugene swallowed the sound. But he only earned more when he dragged lips across Jesse’s jaw and down his neck, taking advantage of the sensitive spot he found just under an ear.

“I’m real glad,” Eugene, Jesse was pleased to find, sounded a little breathless, a little raspy in the best sort of way, “that I got to hear your voice after all.”

“I’m still not coming to all your matches,” Jesse said, not altogether surprised to find a matching roughness in his own voice.

“I don’t expect you to.”

“What does that mean?” Jesse demanded, suddenly feeling annoyed. “I’ll have you know I’m a very attentive boyfriend.”

“Oh?” Eugene asked, eyebrows disappearing under flopping bangs. Jesse pushed the hair back up out of his face.

“Yes,” he said defensively.

“You realize I know all about your relationship dramas from Nick, right? It doesn’t sound like you’re all that attentive, bud. You _are_ attractive, though.”

“That little—that’s _personal!_ I’m going to kill him for spreading my business—which I told him in confidence—around to random—argh! And I _can_ too be attentive. I’m sure of it.”

“So,” Eugene said, clearly amused before he dipped back down to kiss Jesse’s neck slowly. “Will my attentive boyfriend be attending all my matches, then?”

Jesse flushed, finally realizing what he’d said. Damn his tongue and what this man did to it.

“I didn’t mean—,” he tried, but Eugene bit at his neck and Jesse lost the words. Eugene’s teeth were gentle too, even as he used them to leave what Jesse was sure would be an impressive bruise where they worked. How strange that this man with the brute strength to knock someone out cold was so incredibly gentle. Jesse sighed. “I expect you to take me out,” he informed Eugene sternly. Only, it didn’t sound stern at all. “I don’t intend to be like some groupie, all but living in this dump. Dinner would be nice.”

“If I didn’t know you were so worn out from your long flight, I’d ask if you want to grab dinner after this.”

“It really is your lucky night because I’ve just caught a second wind.”

“Told you,” Eugene said, smiling broadly at Jesse. “I’ve got a good luck charm here tonight.”

**Author's Note:**

> so yeah there it is lmao thanks for reading 💜💜💜
> 
> P.S. see I _told_ you my friends are the biggest enablers, look at [this amazing scene](https://thestarminstrel.tumblr.com/post/630173391611166720/this-wasa-bad-idea-it-wasnt-even-one-he-could) [Thestarminstrel](https://thestarminstrel.tumblr.com/) drew!!! how am i supposed to not think about boxer!Eugene after looking at that???


End file.
